by Elle James
“Just say the word, and I’ll relieve your frustration.” He waved his hand as though he wielded a magic wand that could erase all my sexual angst.
“I hate you.” I stared out the window. “When this investigation is over, I’m requesting a different partner.”
“Can’t stand the heat, sweetheart?”
“I can’t stand the bullshit.” Oh, he had me all right. But like hell was I going to admit it.
The taxi pulled up outside an impressive ten-story building of steel and glass with a huge F&L logo on a sign affixed to the top corner.
“Any chance they have a night crew on duty?” I glanced toward the lit entrance. “Otherwise this could be a waste of time and taxi fare.”
“I called ahead. They have a nightshift and supervisor on duty. Apparently some of the experiments have to be monitored twenty-four-seven.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to speak to both shifts. Just means we’ll have to make another trip out here in the morning.” I shoved the door to the taxi open and stepped out. My stomach let out a low growl.
“Hungry?”
“Past hungry.” I sighed. “Well, let’s get this over with and then get to a diner before I keel over.”
The guard on duty jerked to attention when I flashed my detective badge. “We’d like to talk to the supervisor in charge of company vehicles.”
A few minutes later, a man appeared in a mechanic’s jumpsuit, his hair standing on end, rubbing grease off his hands onto a dull red shop towel. He frowned at our display of badges. “What’s up?”
“We need to see your vehicle log. Also, have you had any unusual incidents involving any of the F&L company vans?”
“I can show you the logs, but if you want to know about unusual incidents, I had one of my vans stolen during the day shift while out on a delivery. The driver parked it beside a building, locked it and went in. When he came back out the vehicle was gone.”
“Was it a black van?” Blaise asked.
“As a matter of fact, yes.” The supervisor stuffed the hand towel in his back pocket. “Why?”
“We think it was used in an attack earlier.” I turned toward guard at the desk. “Is there anyone here who had a lot of contact with Mr. Felding?”
“The only people who saw Mr. Felding on a regular basis were his secretary, accountant and the scientists in the research department.”
“Any of those people happen to be here now?” I asked.
“One of the scientists on the night shift.” He glanced down at his computer screen. “Want me to call him up?”
“Can we go to where he is?”
“Sorry.” The guard shook his head. “Not without proper clearance or a search warrant.”
I was more than curious now as to what they produced at the F&L corporation. “Then we’d like to talk to your scientist out here, please.”
While we waited, I leaned toward Blaise. “Can you read anyone’s mind?”
“Not actually. Yours seems to be the only one I have a direct link into.”
“How did you make the taxi driver agree to take us?”
“I can occasionally push a thought into someone’s mind, but it depends on the individual, and how strong-willed he is.”
A man in a white lab coat exited the elevator, peering anxiously through thick glasses. “The guard said it was an emergency?”
“Not so much. But we do have questions.” I leaned close to read the man’s plastic name badge. “Dr. Henke.”
“Call me Morton.” He glanced from me to Blaise and back to me. “Do I need to speak to our corporate attorney first?”
“I don’t know, do you feel the need?” Blaise asked.
“I just don’t know how much I can reveal about the experiments I’m handling.”
I laid a hand on Henke’s arm and gave him my best trust me smile. “We want to ask you questions about Mr. Felding and the people he came into contact with.”
“Oh, okay.” The man sighed. “Not that I know much. Mr. Felding, God rest his soul, was very involved in the status of our experiments. I don’t know much more than what I saw in the lab. He spent the majority of his time in the corporate offices upstairs.”
“Based on what you knew or saw, did Mr. Felding appear to have any enemies who’d want to see him or his company fail? Did he make anyone angry?”
Morton frowned, his eyes blurry behind the thick glasses. “No. Well, there was the argument he had with Victor Stewart over the time it was taking to complete a barrage of tests needed to validate a particular experiment. Victor didn’t like that he was being pushed to finish a test that needed a specific amount of time to validate. He and Mr. Felding had words in front of the staff. Then Mr. Felding took him aside. When Victor came back, he wasn’t happy. But he’s been a scientist at F&L for at least ten years. I don’t think he’d have done anything to jeopardize the company or Mr. Felding.”
“Where can we find Dr. Stewart?”
“He works the day shift. He’s probably at his home, sleeping.”
“Anyone else that you know of who might have a beef with the company or Mr. Felding?”
“Do you think someone killed Mr. Felding? I thought he died of a heart attack. His body has been preserved in the cryogenic deep freeze here on the premises at his own request.”
I blinked. “Mr. Felding’s body is in a cryogenic stasis? Here?”
“Why, yes.” Mr. Henke’s eyes widened. “Oh, dear. I don’t think I was supposed to disclose that information. We do offer cryogenic preservation to many of our clients, though it’s quite costly and a client has to be carefully monitored in death to make the transition. In effect, the brain is infused with a special chemical combination to preserve the brain for later reanimation with all neural functionality and memories intact, should medical technology advance to such a state as to make it plausible.”
“Reanimation?” I stepped forward. “Have any of your scientists been working on experiments in reanimation?”
“But of course. It has been one of our main focuses…” Henke sighed. “Until recently.”
“What do you mean?”
“All work stopped when Mr. Felding died. And after the company’s recent financial problems, the board of directors decided it would be best to continue with the more reliable revenue stream of new drug research and development, instead of spending time and money on dead people. They just couldn’t understand the amazing advancements we have made and could make, if they’d allowed us to proceed.”
“What kind of advancements?”
The scientist’s eyes opened wide and he smiled. “Why, in reviving dead people.”
A cold flicker of dread inched down my spine, sending shivers rippling across my skin. Was this the source of the zombies roaming New York? “Dr. Henke, are you currently experimenting on human bodies?” I held my breath, awaiting the answer.
Morton laughed. “No, of course not. We haven’t brought the research that far along. So far we’ve only been able to revive rats. We’d hoped to move on to cats, then pigs within the next couple of weeks. Until…”
“The board shut you down.” I nodded.
Blaise spoke up. “Are there any other scientists with as much knowledge and insight into the experiments that have been going on with the rats?”
With a nod, Henke glanced toward the door he’d emerged from as if he could see the others waiting inside. “A good half dozen. We work in shifts to monitor the status of our experiments around the clock. Not that we’re still experimenting with reanimation.”
“Could we get a list of those scientists?” Blaise asked.
“And their addresses,” I added.
“I can tell you their names. As for addresses, you’ll have to talk to someone in HR during business hours.”
“Names will do for a start.” I handed him the notepad I carried in my pocket and he jotted down six names.
“Thank you, Dr. Henke.” I took the notepad from him and stuffed it into the pocket
of my jacket. “You’ve been a big help.”
“Anytime. I needed the break.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and smiled. “Sure beats long lonely nights of experiments.”
Blaise nodded. “Glad we could help.”
As Henke returned to the elevator and disappeared into the bowels of the F&L building, I asked the guard to call a cab to pick us up.
In the meantime, I preferred to wait outside. The thought of live—or not so live—animal experiments taking place somewhere in the building gave me a hyper sense of the heebie-jeebies. The place smelled so much of alcohol, disinfectant and something else that wasn’t quite right. Maybe it was the chemicals they used on the dead people they stored.
Blaise stood beside me on the curb as we waited for the taxi to show. “We’re going to visit Victor Stewart, aren’t we?”
I snorted. “You’re the mind reader.”
“Don’t you think a little rest would help? You humans don’t operate well without food and sleep.”
“If our man Stewart is reanimating dead people, he’s setting them loose at night. We can’t wait for the next attack.”
“I can’t imagine him having the time to work on more than one a night. He’s loosed his latest already. He has to sleep as well. If we wait until morning, we might have a better chance of catching him with the goods and it will give our guys back at the station time to pull up a valid address on him.”
Damn. The demon was probably right. So far, I’d been running on adrenaline alone. If I slowed down at all, I’d probably keel over from hunger and sleep deprivation. “Okay, we stop for food and sleep.”
“Good. I know a great twenty-four-hour diner that makes a quiche to die for.”
I groaned. “Please, no more dead jokes. I’m about dead on my feet.” As soon as the words left my lips, I couldn’t help the chuckle rising up my throat.
The taxi chose that moment to slide up against the curb.
Blaise held the door while I slid inside and across the seat to give him room.
Alone in the back seat with Blaise, I leaned my head back, hoping to keep conversation to a minimum. My plan worked all too well. I was asleep in seconds, empty stomach and all.
Not until the cab pulled to a stop and Blaise opened the door did I realize we’d gone all the way back to my apartment building in Manhattan.
“I thought we were stopping for food?” My stomach growled.
“The Chinese place around the corner delivers twenty-four hours a day, if my memory serves me.” Blaise held his hand out. “Your key.”
I dug in my pocket and pulled it out, reluctant to hand it over to him. “I can make it to my apartment on my own. Thank you for bringing me.”
He continued to hold out his hand. “The key.”
I didn’t hand it over, and in the next moment, I felt a light scrape and looked down to see the key had disappeared from my hand. When I looked up again, the keychain was dangling from his fingers.
“Strength and speed, remember?” he said.
“That was totally uncalled for,” I grumbled. “Give it back.”
“I’m tired. Yes, demons need rest too. And I’m hungry.” He inserted the key into the front entrance and opened the door for me. “And I don’t feel like eating alone, nor do I think you’ll actually order and eat food unless I stand over you and make sure you do.”
I marched past him and into the stairwell, taking the steps one at a time. The more I climbed, the harder they were.
He stuck my key in the door lock and twisted with a decided jerk. “I’ll order the food, you get a shower. By the time we finish eating, you’ll be ready to fall straight to sleep.”
“You’re not my keeper,” I muttered. “Stupid, bossy demon,” I said as I walked into the bathroom. “I should have skewered him with my letter opener.”
The door opened behind me a crack. “I’m hiding all sharp objects.” Blaise’s chuckle only made my anger sizzle.
I slung my jacket against the wall and unhooked my shoulder holster, laying it across the counter, eyeing the Glock’s dull gray finish.
“Bullets won’t kill us.”
“They’re silver.” My fingers curled around my shirt hem.
“That’s for werewolves.”
I ripped my shirt up over my head and slammed it into the door, knowing my anger was more at myself than Blaise. If I couldn’t learn to control my desire and my temper around him, I’d always be at his mercy.
Think, Danske. Think with your brain, not your female parts.
“Give your female parts a little credit. You know you want me. I just need to hear you say it.”
My fist slammed into the door and pain radiated through my knuckles, bringing my mind and body parts back in line. As I stepped into a cool shower, I gathered my wits and prepared for battle with a demon.
Chapter Six
Not until I shut off the water and grabbed for a towel did I realize I’d come into the bathroom without clean clothing. I had two choices, either ask a demon to rifle through my underwear drawer or wrap a towel around myself and march into my bedroom to get dressed before Blaise had a chance to cop a peek.
I quickly finger-combed my hair, realizing it was hopeless to try to get it straight without the brush I’d left on my dresser. With the towel wrapped around what was important, I opened the door a crack and peered toward the living room. I didn’t see Blaise. Good. He was probably in the kitchen.
I flung the door open and scooched into my bedroom, heading straight for my dresser with the underwear, trying to ignore the strong scent of soy sauce and bell pepper assaulting my nostrils, making my stomach groan.
“Don’t feel obligated to get dressed for me,” a warm, resonant voice said from the doorway.
I squealed and spun, a pair of thong underwear curled in my fingers.
Blaise lounged against the doorframe, his shirt unbuttoned and chopsticks poised over a box of Chinese noodles.
“What are you doing in here?” I demanded.
“Eating. I couldn’t wait.” He winked and scooped noodles and broccoli into his mouth.
My insides squeezed and my mouth watered. “Not fair. I’m starving.”
He held out his chopsticks, holding a morsel of chicken slathered in sauce. “Here.”
Knees weak, I was drawn to the food, to his body. “I’m only coming because of the food.” My feet carried me within reach.
“Yeah.”
My lips parted to deliver a scathing retort.
He gave that infuriatingly smug smile and poked the chicken into my mouth.
I closed my eyes to his naked chest and moaned as an explosion of flavor filled my mouth. I chewed, savoring the taste, my hand clenching the towel. “Mmmm. Delicious.” When I opened my eyes, Blaise was staring at me.
His smoky, black gaze centered on where my hand held the towel over my breasts.
My breathing grew more sporadic, my pulse hammered against the vein in my neck. I wanted him more than any man I’d ever come in contact with. I reached out, my hand going for the skin exposed between the edges of his open shirt. At the last minute, I grabbed the chopsticks and the box of noodles, digging in to keep my traitorous hands off his body.
As I lifted a scoop of noodles and chicken to my lips, my hands shook and my vision blurred on the chicken, focusing instead on the man.
He ripped the box of chicken from my hands, and the noodle I’d been holding plopped onto his chest, slowly slithering down until Blaise caught it and held it in place against his skin.
Blaise set the box of Chinese food on the nightstand and stretched out on the bed, eyes staring into mine with clear challenge.
I couldn’t take my eyes off where the lone noodle rested against his skin. Stepping forward until I reached his side, I sucked the edge of the long thin strand from his chest into my mouth.
He tipped my face up and took the other end of the noodle, sucking it between his lips, his face drawing closer to mine in the process unt
il our mouths met.
Sparks ripped through my body, igniting an uncontrollable flame.
Blaise flipped me over onto the bed and leaned down over me. “Say it.”
I blinked up at him, my brain cells flowing south to the place that burned for this demon. “Say what?”
“That you want me. For more than just tonight.” His palm cupped my cheek, his lips hovering over mine, his gaze boring into me. “Say it.”
With no more will to fight, I sighed. “Damn it. I want you.”
His mouth crushed mine, his body pressing me into the mattress, his fingers parting the edges of the towel.
My leg slid up the side of his, curling around the back of his calf until my pussy rubbed over the top of his denim-clad thigh. We were close, but not close enough.
His hand cupped one breast, pinching the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Then his mouth left mine, traveling downward across my chin, skimming my throat and the top of my chest until his lips found the turgid peak and sucked it hard.
Moaning low in my throat, I arched my back off the comforter, thrusting my breast deeper into his mouth. My other leg wrapped around his waist and squeezed. I wanted him inside me, filling me, stretching my channel with his stiff, hard member, remembering what he’d said. “I don’t believe your equipment is any different than a human’s.” My words came out soft and breathy.
He laughed. “Is that your way of saying ‘show me’?” He leaned back on his arms, smiling down at me.
My tongue slid across my swollen lower lip. I stared at the muscled chest, the ripples of skin stretching over his tight abdomen. If he was going to force me to give this a real try, then I’d get everything out of it that I could. “What the hell. Show me whatcha got, demon.”
His laughter filled the air as he stood beside the bed and shucked his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. When his hands reached for the button on his jeans, I stopped him, shoving his fingers away. I wanted to unveil his cock, to arouse him like he’d aroused me. I wanted him to know the depths of desire and frustration he’d driven me to.